APH : When in Rome
by AllEvil669
Summary: The amazing Empire we all know as The Roman Empire was an incredible feat made by mankind. But, what did they do to get there? Romulas wasn't given everything on a sliver platter, but he wanted it, so, he got it. But, was it all worth it?
1. Chapter 1

I pulled my robe more tightly around my body. The overbearing pain in my head continued to pound, the cold sweats weighed heavily on my courage, forcing me to push myself. Order my feet to work and just MOVE. I can't stop now.

Not when I've come so far. Not when two lifes are on my unworthy hands.

The rain beat down hard, the lightning striking across the navy blue sea above, it's hearty roar and the deafening imitation of hoof-beats following.

The trmendous kick in my stomach reminded me I wasn't alone. I clutched the fabric above my womb and whispered sweet nothings, "Μην ανησυχείς, αγάπη μου. Είναι ασφαλές. Υπόσχομαι ότι."

I kept moving up, over the hill. No, what could easily be mistaken for a mountain. There were many of them. All around me. Surrounding an area that I seeked. I had to reach it. For the safety of my poor babe. I had come so far for it, I couldn't stop now.

The lush grass under me cushioned my feet, but not my heavy heart. I had left my home behind. Far, far behind...as...as though it were nothing. I stopped, the pain and thought weighing me down. I could live with a small rest...

Couldn't I?

I was dreadfully confused, and not just because of my pain, not my usual questions about the large world that harbors us all, the inquiries that not only I but many other amazing men and women had demanded to be answered. But no questions could be asked anymore, other then, why? Why was our very world on fire? Why does so much blood flood our streets, and feed our sorrow? And, why, oh gods and goddesses, why, had I left my people alone? All alone, to face this misfortune that was not just food for the hungry mouth of their dread, but mine also. It was a threat that I should be facing with my people. I was confused for my own actions, I should be with them, fighting along-side them.

But what did I do?! Leave them!

How could I?! Why did I?!

For a child! Such a small defensless thing can make us all act redundantly.

I shook my head and attempted to continue with my quest. To fine, my legs were lifeless. I tried, as hard as I dare to find, there was no hope. Sweat trickled down my face, resting on my jaw line, the small hairs on the back of my neck pricked as I considered the danger of the situation. Even though I had dealt with far worse then this, nothing frightens me more then the work of Zeus.

I clenched my eyes shut as two different types of pain crossed my being. Destruction, the fear of man, women and child alike, a wrenching in my stomach, my heart beating almost as fast as a messanger runs. I remembered all the births I had been present for in my long life time.

'Breath Athena, breath.'

I felt my chest flutter as I tried as hard as I could to maintain a sense of control. I pushed my posture down into a lying position, as many had done before me, raising my knees as high as I dare. I ripped the off-white of my shawl, lying it in between my legs, holding it down with my feet, my toes crurling with desperation and strength into the dampened cloth.

The tense muscles of my back relaxed painfully against the firm ground, my ribs feeling as though they pressed uncomfortably against my heart and lungs. Breathing was the hardest thing I had ever done, and yet it was the thing I must do most.

Sweat, tears, anguish, fear and pain. All of it plauged my heavy brow. I felt as though I and thousands of others were drowning in it all.

And then, suddenly, like a ray of sunshine in the pitch darkness, I could feel the determination of my people. And it brought hope to my subconscious. If they felt like, against all odds, they would rise from the ashes victorious and prosper once again, I could believe as they believe.

I shouted all the things that ran through my mind like a steady flow of mindless words, pushing myslelf much beyond my reached limits, losing all sense of reason as I tried to purge my mind of all the tormenting feeling within me, slashing at all my body and mind. I thrashed, trying to defeat my enemy, help myself and my people, do all I could for them, they deserved it after all we had endured, together.

The next thing that I could force myself to remember was a numbness. Black, white, then pain and finally, nothing.

My mind started to wander, was I alive? Was anything real? For, even though I would almost never ask such an absurd question, I could feel nothing, see nothing, hear nothing, it was as though the very world had vanished from right under, and just all around me. Though it is perfectly understandable my heart has finally stopped it's perpetual beating, I lay still awaiting the moment my mind would stop also, and I would no longer be aware of the emptiness that rests around every inch of my vision.

Though, I still remembered the emotional assault I had endeared, I felt surprisingly calm. Every part of me was lax, my mind at complete ease. I felt no sense of fear, or pain, only pure peace of mind.

I suddenly lost this 'too-good-to-be-true' feeling as a shrill set of cries interupted my long forgotten period of eternal peace.

Even though the light was dim, I blinked in it, anything short of pure black much to bright for comfort. But, I must see, lay my eyes apon the devil which had inflicted so much on me.

Sorry.

Devils.

They were the most handsome rascals I'd ever seen presented before me. They shamelessly pulled in on themselves, the cold rain chilling the poor babes to the bone, the crudely ripped fabric below them doing everything less then even slightly helpful. I gasped in adoration, their beauty bewitched me. I torn more of my robe until I was practically in the nude, wrapping the young boys up and holding them to my breast.

"Κοίτα, απλά κοιτάζω. Πιο υπέροχη νίκη μου, πραγματικά. Σ 'αγαπώ.."

Their cries subsided, as the twin reddish-brown eyes meshed with my golden hazel.

So much love was graced apon the infants as I looked down at them. Anything could come at me now, but I could face anything as long as those eyes followed mine. I pressed my thin lips against their warm foreheads as they began to whimper, being faced with so much after all. Thank Zeus he took pity apon the boys and ended his relentless assail on the land below his kingdom.

I would finish my climb on the morn. Now, I rest and bathe in the gorgeus being cradled in my arms.

" Σ 'αγαπώ.."

Yay, short writing is short.

Translations -

Greek - Μην ανησυχείς, αγάπη μου. Είναι ασφαλές. Υπόσχομαι ότι. - Do not worry, darling. It's safe. I promise that.

Greek - Κοίτα, απλά κοιτάζω. Πιο υπέροχη νίκη μου, πραγματικά. Σ 'αγαπώ.. - Look, just look. My most wonderful victory, really. I love you..

Greek - Σ 'αγαπώ.. - I love you.

Disclaimer : I do not own, storms, Zeus, Athena, and most definitely not babies. And it is because of this I also do not own Hetalia.


	2. Chapter 2

"Σπάρτη!"

I immedietly forced my body erect and reached for, anything really – and all gratitude to my luck - found the embers of the prior nights fire. "Ελάτε Εστία, τι έχω κάνει για να αξίζει αυτή την τιμωρία?" I held my hand to my breast, it stung, but I'd had worse. I lightly peered behind me. They were fine.

I chuckled whistfully as the sly devils fought soundlessly over who would be on the recieveing end of relentless smothering. "Τουλάχιστον τα αγόρια μου είναι ασφαλή ..."

They were probably hungry and would not hold it against me if I were to awaken them, but they were silent for once and strike me dead if I were to ripple a pond of such tranquility.

I pulled myself slowly to my still weak and wobbling legs. Getting there was easier then first assumed, but staying there was just as difficult if not more. Becasue of this, it was quite a bit of a chore, but I kept my mouth shut and practically limped my way to the mouth of the cave, craving the breeze and a ray of sunshine after a long, difficult night.

The sight was just as beautiful as I remembered. The warm sunlights gleam sparkling on the dew drops. Every blade of grass was a significant piece of beauty, an important part of this puzzle portrayed every morning, evening, night. The mouth of the cave was rustic in looks, but was also a specimen of wonder all its own. It cracked in spiderwebs, spirals and unended works of art, forever carved into its seemingly plain suface.

I could feel every tiny and great gust of equally warm wind, every twitch of animal and earth.

But, because of this transfixation on the scene, I was not as prepared, as I should have been, when surprisingly strong and sure whimpering erupted behind me.

I lept to their side with speed and grace I had began to think I no longer posessed, I was very pleased to be proven wrong. But, I could have been happier if the wonderful silence had only lasted a moment longer. I cooed sweetly as I scooped my sons up with not yet steady arms. "Οι πιο αξιολάτρευτο διάβολοι που έχω δει ποτέ ..."

The rest of my morning was full to the brim with the need for strength I had not my word on my ability to give, but for them, I did, with a great sense of will I knew very well I posessed. I cared little for my own needs as the care for the boys had become a thing of much greater importance.

Oh, did I want just a moment of rest, though, if only a moment...

0000

I resumed my journey, so tired, so thirsty, so hungry, I swear even the warmth started to wear on me in a way it had never done before. The boys were bound in pieces of my robe and a spare blanket. Both had been knotted together over my breast, much to tight for any sort of confort. But they both seemed to be in the best of moods, so, that lifted my spirits and kept my feet pumping, kept me from giving up and hoping for the death I had believed had finally come for me last night.

My breathing was heavy and wilted, two high-pitched wheezes and maybe an even slightly satisfying breath would sooth the burn in my chest, my heart and lungs working with great amounts of vigor. I was actually relieved that the babes were oblivious to my suffering, better they be happy then concerned, though I wasn't sure they were grown enough yet to feel truly concerned for me, or anyone but themselves for that matter.

I reached in front of me, brushed aside some branches and was suddenly blinded by light, a beautiful rainbow of light reflecting off the soaring waves of the sea before me. Seven huge mounds of vibrant plant life and rich soil, packed solidly into grand giants encased the area, closing in on the free spirited body of crystalline water. The wind took up the melody of it all, and I could only breath it, soak it all up. This was the land, the haven my boys were entitled to, had been born for, the land I had gone through so much for. I felt the burn of tears pouring down my flushed cheeks, blurring my vision. I clasped my hands over my heart protectively, and truthfully, all because it was pounding so passionately I believed it was to leap out if I allowed it.

Joy. I had never felt so much of it, so much it felt as though it were taking over my very being.

I'd made it. Victory is sweet, sweeter then honey...

* * *

A bolt of lightning, and a howl of thunder. A set of cries, and a womans screams.

I lay awake in a room of the kings estate, lying in my comforting bed, my pelt blanket wrapped around my legs tightly, my arms doing the same, just tighter. That was but a glimpse into my prior nights dream – or was it a nightmare? I had not yet decided. Yes, with just such descriptions, it would be deemed a nightmare by most men, but with the actual experience of it I could not be certain.

I would seek out a second opinion, but I was worried of what they might be. The only reasonable remark that came to mind was a chuckle and comment on what an imaginative child I was. Like I needed more of that, the whole of the king and his court already thought I was a foolish child. I couldn't help but pout just thinking of it, my red brown eyes fighting off frustrated tears.

No, someone needed to hear me out. I am a smart girl, a wise girl, no matter how young or small. I have been taught well, I have proven to myself that I am special, maybe even a thing of the gods which I don't mind to say so myself. And I am certain this means something huge. I have never felt so sure of something in my whole life.

But, no matter how sure I am or how much I want to tell someone, anyone, I know that I need to get the whole picture before I utter a word. I'll find them. Search down the women and the children – I had decided to deem them – and once I had the proof, I'd find out why I had dreamt it. Why would such a thing happen?

I understand that odd things happen, I mean, if I am to be frank, I have died before and I am still alive and healthy – at least to my best of knowledge. I am not of royal blood, in fact I never even knew my parents. I was an unwanted child – which is the only memory I have before settling into the kingdom, the rest I knew by tales whispered between slave to slave - until I somehow made it into the royal estate. I was almost put to death, but the abnormal beauty of me made the king rethink his decision, and quite before I knew what was to happen to me, or even before I understood one fact of the world, I was a princess of sorts. The king adores me, called me His. No one elses. It makes me feel wothy of living here, sleping in this bed, eating this food, wearing these clothes.

But, I digress, the world is an amazing thing, and I am determined to get some answers. With this new found determination, I sat up straight and brushed my dark red curls off my shoulders. Whether I get them all at once or inch by inch, I have not a care in the world. I just want the answers. And they better be good ones...

Well, I finally got new chapter up. Pretty soon I'm gonna switch to English for the speech because all this Greek stuff is driving me up the wall, I know how annoying it is to have to either scroll down or just wait until you get to the bottom of the page to figure out the translations. So, I'll try to upload quicker next time, uh, nothing else really.

Traslations – Just Greek

Σπάρτη = Sparta.

Ελάτε Εστία, τι έχω κάνει για να αξίζει αυτή την τιμωρία? = Come Home, what have I done to deserve this punishment?(Home is referring to the goddess Hestia – Zeus's wife and the goddess of the hearth, home, other such things. Since her name means home, I just made her call her that)

Τουλάχιστον τα αγόρια μου είναι ασφαλή …... = At least my boys are safe...

Οι πιο αξιολάτρευτο διάβολοι που έχω δει ποτέ ... = The most adorable devils I have ever seen...

Disclaimer : I do not own early Rome, little girls, beauty not a step outside, a love for the sun or undying love for two little baby boys. And it is unfortunate, that I also do not own Hetalia.


	3. Chapter 3

I lay in the lush field of green, the comfort of being there, having any sort of a rest, was beautiful.

I felt exhausted, my face an unhealthy shade of red, the flush being followed by a knot in my chest and stomach. Sweat rolled down my face, soaking my chestnut hair. I would feel more self concious if I only had a good motive at the moment.

My boys sat to my left, their legs touching, exploring their new enviorment together. I watched them with tears pricking at the corner of my eyes, my throat closing as I observed the way they helped each other and shared everything they figured out, their hearts residing on their sleeves. Smiles on their faces, joy in every move they made.

I had started to consider names now that I had time to wonder to such trivial topics. Even though, they were identicle twins there was some definite differences. One of them was much larger, a bit more chubby then the other. He had spriteful, big, bright doe eyes, glowing with a firey passion. He couldn't keep his hands out or off of anything and he seemed to have no care in the world of even his own needs. The other boy was smaller, and also very curious. He couldn't stand to stray to far and seemed to care for his own personnal hygiene much more then his other, wailing the very second anything happened. He still had big eyes, but it seemed more of fear then interest. I tried to think, but nothing came to mind.

The smaller boys' reddish-brown eyes flickered to his right. A small pull at his lips pulled his face into an expression of pure appreciation. A plume of silk scarlet sprouted out of the ground beside him. I watched, very intrigued.

With a surprisingly graceful and gentle swipe of the hand, he held the delicate flower in his palm. The ribbons of petals slid against his soft skin, making a quiet giggle pass his lips.

The sun lifted its head out over the tips of the trees and gave the boy a warm, amber halo. The warmth finally gave me comfort, my sweating resulting in just a uncomfortable, salty coating. The moment lasted for just an eternity, it seemed, before his brother of larger bulk decided to find what his brother held so dear.

In a tackle and a tumble, the boy ended on top of the other and the flower in a most unfortunate death under the both of them. The smaller one began to cry as soon as he saw a petal off to the side, the realization blooming on his face.

I jutted up, crawled over to the quarrel and interjected. I scooped up one and then two. As I watched them, I was surprised to find no more fighting. The small one was crying and burying his face into my breast, his tears soaking everything he come in contact with. While, instead of remaining ignorant of the others sadness, the larger one was now whimpering, and reaching out for his brother, as though he were offering a shoulder to cry on, his distress becoming more obvious as his smaller kin shrunk away from him.

I sat, cradling them both in my lap, trying to calm them, a low song being sung. Though neither seemed to care, remaining in this state of regret and plain distress. I tried as hard as I dare, but nothing soothed their whines.

I suffered through it...

…..until they cried themselves to sleep.

Relieved, grateful and once again content with and in the dark and calm of night, I snuggled with them on the grass, breathing in between them, warming them the best I could without moving. I slowly brought them closer until they finally clasped onto each other tightly, making me feel much better. I couldn't stand to see them so upset with each other. It almost seemed a sin.

I felt the weight of sleep deprivation and soon became its slave, slipping into the burrows of my selfconcious.

* * *

There's something about painting. On plastered walls, dry walls, me, anything. The fluid movements, the vibrant and dull colors. I couldn't place it, but what ever it is, it's amazingly attractive.

I've loved it ever since I was young. It was the only activity I could ever deem anything more then annoying. I've never been capable of expressing my inner self to write or construct poetry. I've never had the hand or the care for gardening. On the other hand, I've always been good with talking to people, I just never have anyone new or interesting to communicate with. I still quite enjoy speaking with the king, but the slaves are busy and couldn't spare a moment – and were boring anyway. I was so desperate for a play mate, I attempted speaking to the birds, the fish and even the moon and stars.

But, once all my ideas were proven to be nothing more then the fleeting dreams of a foolish little girl, I shut myself up in my room, pulled the drapes and refused to speak to anyone. Even the king.

Because of this, my door was broken down by soldiers, just because He wanted to make sure I was happy and well. Once it was proven I wasn't He wouldn't leave me until the instant I confessed. But, within the fears of being scolded and once again called foolish, I told him the estate no longer felt like home, like something was missing.

He felt much better after knowing, but what he did only made me feel worse. He bought every precious and expensive thing he could get his wealthy paws on. Before my very eyes, statues, vases, jewels and much, much more dazzeled my eyes. But, none of it made me happy.

Desperate to ease my sorrow and discomfort, the king hired a painter. I was dissapointed at first, almost angry that he continued trying.

But, one morning, as I walked the somber hallways, I was struck by an opening in the wall. It was a beautiful sight to behold. A dress of dull green and grey, a skirt of blue hued fog and a mat of green fur acted as a rug for the sturdy feet of brown bark.

I almost called for someone, fightened by the sudden loss of a wall there. But, the words caught somewhere in my throat as the wind I perceived stopped flowing. The birds perched in the trees stopping their persistant chirping, the branches didn't sway, the fog didn't roll. It was as though the very world had stopped living.

"Do you like it, princess?"

I jumped and looked behind me, to find the tall and lanky form of the artist the king had hired, a green smudge on his lower jaw, along with a silver smudge with a brightening of green on the edge resting on his brow. "W-what is it?!" I couldn't help but ask in such a manner. It truly scared me!

He extended his arms around me without making contact, as though to comfort me – in an odd way, mind you. "Oh, don't worry, my dear. It is a mirage. An image, if you will. Beyond this image I have made, is a wall. A sturdy wall, one you should remember quite well."

I turned around to face the wall, staring at this 'image', though I was starting to suspect sorcery. I thought long and hard. Well, I very much doubt the king would hire someone who could harm me in such a way, so I tried to maintain my posture, my breathing becoming still as I refused to show any sign of fear.

I didn't realize how long 'long and hard' is, and exacuted an amazingly impressive jump at such harmless words spoken tentatively behind me. "You can touch it, if you feel so inclined..."

I put a hand on my chest, staring at it.

As I did nothing, he said firmly, "Touch it, princess."

As you already should know well, I did. Found that what he claimed was true, and couldn't contain my excitement. I loved it so much, the king hired him to practically cover the estate with frescos, and even framed paintings. I even asked him to make one of me. It's beautiful, so real you can almost see my breast move as gentle breaths linger on my lips, trying my hardest to hold still. My red curls sway with every breath, my brown eyes sparkleing with a obvious gleam of red. My thin, lips pulled slightly into a smile I rarely show. My youth, twelve years young, shining on it in a way I could never dream to be able to accomplish.

Through all his service, one day he packed his bags and planned to leave. I didn't want him to go, I couldn't let him go. I demanded him to stay, but nothing persuaded him. He left, but he left behind a paint brush and paints. I practiacally sleep with them at my side at night they mean so much to me. I use them to make my own creations, all of which are...quite a different thing.

I would never say aloud, but my paintings, can never match up to his. The king praises them as though they do, but it's all a lie. I know it is. I've seen the way he looks at them. But, I can't be mad at him, he's just trying to help me feel better about myself. I just wish it helped more then it does.

I stop thinking of it so as to avoid crying, and take in the painting I've created in my spare time. I knew what it was supposed to be, but that had no impact on what it has become. My mind pictured a plume of silky scarlet, on a delicate stalk of green. A amber glow would set the tone behind it.

But, it never came out how I wished.

The plume was listing to the side, the petals different sizes and shapes, the stalk much to straight, and the 'amber glow' had become a block of hazel giving the flower a rectanglular halo of sorts. The hazel even passed onto the flower, ruining it's color, nor did it mesh with the blue sky the way it should.

My face became a mix between a curl of frustration and a serious pout. My knuckles faded to a bone white color, my red brown eyes changing into a blaze of red and gold.

I considered throwing my paint brush and paints. '_No, no. Come on Sicily, just calm down. You can take it to the king. He'll like it. He'll take it and hide it away in his chambers forever.'_

I bit my lip in a fervent attempt to calm myself, and finally succeeded in the comforting thought that no one but the king and the slaves would have to see such a hideous creation. I set my things away, called for slaves to carry it to the chambers of the king for me, and followed them.

His chambers are grand, grander then mine. In fact, I've never seen anything more beautiful. An enormous fresco of the estate is on the far wall, a small verson of him and me stand at the bottom. I smile in the painting and I lean in the arms of the even happier king. A large window with drapes that are almost never pulled, bathes a painting of me in sunlight and moonlight. His bed is made, and much larger then my own. The room is covered and made a mess by my horrendous works of art. He says he loves them all, but I think they make his room look dirty and a murder site of all good artists faith in a new generation of artists.

The slaves set the painting at the foot of his bed, by my orders. I consider whether I should wait for him. But, an ache in my chest makes the dicision for me. _'He can dispise it without me here to see.'_

"Take me to my room."

* * *

So, this is the next chapter. I'm sorry, I think it sucks. I should have done something different, but this is it. I just wanted you guys to know I'm still alive. Comments are cherished.

Signed : Roxxan

Disclaimer : I do not own flowers, bad painting skills, a king for a dad, nor do I own Axis Powers Hetalia.


	4. SOS - Suggestions

Hey guys. Yeah, it's me, Mister I-Can't-Be-Bothered-To-Do-Anything. Miss me much? Didn't think so.

I was going to just try to update as quickly as possible, but it has become obvious to me that I won't be able to update until Infinty.

Alright, I take that back, maybe until next month, but you get my point.

I'm such a bit fat liar.

So, no matter what you're waiting for;

When in Rome

Full of Surprises

Something not crappy

It doesn't matter.

I wanted to formally apologize for my procrastination. It's just like I've been hit by a WALL of writers block, and I'm practically drowning in my scrapped ideas. So, take this as a S.O.S.

Please, I'm lost in a sea of the worst ideas known by man, so please, please, PLEASE! SAVE. ME.

I know you're all butt hurt about me being slow as hell, but seriously, help. If any of you have some ideas, even if they're TERRI-BAD, I. DON'T. CARE. They can't be any worse then what I have.

Besides, I'd rather drown doing something I love.

That's right.

Ladies and gentleman, you're watching a bastard who would rather drown on his computer, reading YOUR COMMENTS, instead of spending his LAST MOMENTS with HIS BELOVED FAMILY. Or perhaps HIS GIRLFRIEND.(I'm joking, I love all of them bunches, but you get my point)

Seriously. I know I'm an asshole, but please, send in your suggestions.

THEY JUST MIGHT SAVE MY LIFE.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey, guys! I'm so, SO sorry for not updating. I just got this huge roadblock in my writing, started another story and got pretty carried away with it.

With my other story I had thought to put up a warning, so as to make it clear as to what to expect with this story, and I think that was a great idea. I also think it was unfair of me not to put one up on this story. Wouldn't want to have someone read it and then find something they didn't approve of, right? So, without furthur adieu, here is my warning.

!Warning! Includes - Sexual themes, strong language, liberties with history(sorry historians), Pretty Graphic, Rome x Everyone, !BOY ON BOY + GIRL ON GIRL + GIRL ON BOY = IN THIS STORY! DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ, IT'S THAT SIMPLE!, all sorts of OC's, and a look into the magic of the nations.

Big warning, huh? Sorry, but that's just how this story is. But, hey, that's not all there is to it, there is good stuff, too. There's a lot of love, family, humour and just generally good feeling I attempt to arouse in this story. So please, don't let the warning scare you away.

I would now like to thank all the Fanfic'tioners(didn't know what to call you guys sorry) for their generosity. All little nudges at encouragement are very helpful. So, thank you

The Sterling Dragon ~ Thank you so much. I really was trying to put a lot of detail to get the image across, but I was also trying to make sure that there was room for your imagination to take over and make it more interesting. I always thought that helped. I still think that that chapter was choppy, but you made me feel more confident to make the next chapter. And don't you worry about putting a lot of reveiw, I love it! Thank you, again.

Quiet Harmony-chan ~ Thank you. Your comment made me laugh so much! I just though it was funny for someone to think it was 'scary' in any sense of the word, but I just took it as an amusing compliment and was very flattered. As I said, I tried to put as much description as possible, without making it feel crowded or feel like I was concentrating on a subject more then needed. Thank you, again, and please, continue reading.

This chapter is dedicated to the both of you, and everyone else who helped me to make it to this chapter.

* * *

The day was overcast, an odd weather

Athena had gotten so used to the seven hills around her being bathed in the Sun's glory that the very idea of a cloudy day had barely seemed possible. Though she wasn't ready to object. The day was just a beautiful as the rest, this place was just unbelievably lovely. Everything about it, from every blade of dew dropped green to the grand, tear stained sky.

She looked down into the river next to her. It rushed over gorgeous rocks, trickling into a larger pool of it, the ripples repeating over and over. But, it was lost on her as she stared at her reflection.

Physically, she was a girl, eightteen, perhaps. A flawless skinned, hazel eyed, chestnut brown haired beauty. The flesh of the irresistible.

A least, she once was.

Staring back at her, was a woman. Of perhaps twenty-eight years, fading hair, paled skin, bruise hued bags under her eyes, her hazel orbs the only thing still shimmeringly lovely. Her limp locks reminded her of the shedded hairs of an old dying horse. She couldn't help but look disgusted at her own reflection.

She brought a shaking hand up to touch her face, the pads of her fingers tingled with, was that fear? Fear that they might touch rough, calloused skin? Fear that her last shreds of youth would be destroyed?

But, as she gently brushed her cheek, she felt soft skin. Skin that reminded her of a newborn. She smiled, no, positively beamed at this discovery. Until she faced her beaming expression staring back at her vividly.

Why was her visual beauty stolen, but her physical beauty still with her?

She pondered until a rustling shattered her thoughts. She snapped her eyes over towards the noise, to find the terrifying maw of a wolf. Her breath hitched in her throat, almost causing a squeak to slip past her blanched lips. '_A wolf?! They must be native to this region!_' she thought, panicked.

Then a babble behind her caught her attention. '_My boys!_'

She swung around to find them both, sitting in front of an approaching beast, the wolf's snout retracting into a snarl, the dangerous creature trying to get a good smell of the infants.

She felt the horrid sting of fear, cold sweats breaking out over her flushed skin. No! She couldn't let this happen! They were all she had!

She sat there, feeling hopeless. She knew very well she couldn't fight the beast in her current state, but she couldn't just let this happen! They were her babies! She wildly looked around for a weapon, finally spying a large stick, halfway in the pond. She snapped back to the creature stalking her sons to find the awesomely sized wolf almost apon them.

She felt adrenaline rush over her like a crashing wave, and started crawling slowly but surely towards the log.

She glanced at the first wolf to find its golden eyes resting on her, mostly with a look of curiosity over hunger or malicious desire.

Caring more for her boy's situation she crawled faster towards the log until her hand had firmly taken hold of it. She heaved and lifted it with strength she knew she would have to pay for later and slowly pulled herself to her feet. Once on her unsteady, but determined legs she glared with enough force to burn holes in the wolfs head. She took a deep breath, and walked with a sense of dignity that wouldn't allow one trip, one stutter in her own stalking of the beast. Her weight seemed almost as though it didn't exsist, her foot-steps made absolutely no noise on the almost spongy earth. She felt a grim smile pull at her lips, forming a expression of a trained killer.

She came within eight steps of the creature when its head dipped, leaning in for the strong and swift snapping of her sons' necks. Or so, she was sure.

She clutched the log with malignity only seen in a person who had something to fight for, and the means to do it. She held it high to swing, when she suddenly heard a bubbly giggle.

Her muscles tensed, still ready to send the wolf flying, though her eyes, curious as ever, flicked to her boys to find expressions of pure, and blatant glee. Her thin eyebrows raised in confusion, to find the wolf sniffing them in an almost motherly fashion. The wolf nuzzled its nose into the crook of the larger boys' neck sending the infant into contagious fits of ticklish laughter.

The wolf drew back from the burst of sudden noise, its hasty movement tightening the knot in her stomach, her knuckles going bone white from her considerable grip on her scavaged weapon. Though the wolf abruptly went back to sniffing them. The boys seemed beyond excitement.

She was so confused. Almost relieved, but confused.

0000

It had become obvious to Athena that the wolf meant no harm but only seemed interested in the young rascals she dared call her offspring. She sat with one boy on both sides of her. The little boy filled with to much fun for the day lay pillowed in the soft grass to her right, soundly asleep. The larger one sat to her left, now being throughly cleaned by the rough, flat tongue of the grand, brown wolf shortly after having been deemed a filthy, **filthy **little creature.

She laughed and rolled her eyes at her more ample boy. But, her laugh remained shaky. Fear was still evident in her posture and expression. Fear that the wolf may become hungry in this seemingly innocent grooming of the broader youth. Just in case of such an event she kept the log just in front of her, within easy reach.

She watched out of the corner of her eye though she tried her hardest to keep her eyes and hands busy on the frivolous task she had set in front of her. Reeds grew quickly and astonishingly well on the banks of the river she had taken a liking to, and she remembered how she used to take long strands of thread back in Athens and wind them together to make woven bracelets and anklets. She made them so often and so amazingly she made at least two for every one of her beloved brothers and sisters.

The memories came back at her with so much pain she almost believed she would rather just have her heart dug out.

She missed them. She missed them all so much. She watched as the world churned and boiled like water in a pot as crystalline tears began beading at the corners of her amber orbs.

She would have attempted to stop them if she hadn't already known it would be inevitable. They would flow no matter what she did.

So, she let them flow.

She could feel the tear tracks cut through the smudged dirt on her face, though she tried her hardest to ignore them, her slender fingers fumbling to form the gathered reeds in the same way she used to do with the threads. Her chest constricted, her lungs struggling, her heart beyond struggle. She was so grateful she was already on her knees, for if she hadn't been she would have fallen under the weight of the specters that haunted her brow.

She continued with her faltering determination at the arts, until she just couldn't hold back the wracking sobs. She sobbed. She wept and wept until she had no more tears to shed.

Her vision swam and her mind was up in the clouds, so she took shelter under a tree with her sons, both very fatigued by now. Both content to nurse and snuggle to her breast for a much needed rest.

The wolf watched from just out of the shade of the trees' branches, its dark brown eyes watching them tentatively. She allowed her gaze to stray from the wolfs' but she never stopped watching it.

Eventually, it stood and scampered back into the thick parts of the forest, much the way its prey did. She couldn't stop her grin from standing out on her pale face, a feeling telling her it had become **her** prey. She pat the log sitting aside from her, certain that her boys would be safe from now on. She's taught the animals who was the predator now.

Her eye-lids slowly drooped until they finally slid down entirely, blocking out the horrors and stresses of the days events. Her last thoughts were of security.

* * *

Hey, so, I know that almost no excuse can make up for the amount of time it took for this tiny little chapter, but I must confess. For about three days now, I've been ridden with a pretty bad cold, and I've been practically bed-ridden for the whole time. Even now, I am sick, but for my loving readers, I got up out of my bed of snotty tissues, finished, and put this up.

Thanks a lot guys. You're the best.

I don't own Hetalia.


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